by Sable Sylvan
“No, not exactly,” said Meredith. “He asked me to be their live in housekeeper for the next two weeks.”
“The next two weeks?” said Grandma Baxter, serving the stew. “With those three bear shifters?”
“You’ve met the three of them?” said Meredith.
“Of course I have,” said Grandma Baxter. “They do all the handiwork around the houses: Brandon is a carpenter, Scott is an electrician, and Nathan is a plumber. Anything outside that, they try to do anyway. You know how bear shifters are.”
“Not really,” admitted Meredith, tasting the soup. It was still hot but the sweet carrots and onions floating in savory beef soup were delectable. “It’s not like I went to school here, and a lot of the bear shifters were out hunting when I was here for the summer vacations.”
“Well, those bears might be grizzly, but I’m sure that a woman’s touch could turn them into absolute teddy bears,” said Grandma Baxter, bringing over two piping hot cups of cocoa filled with marshmallows. “And who knows, you might make some friends!”
“I have a feeling Brandon wants to be more than just friends,” said Meredith, sipping at the sweet hot chocolate.
“Would that really be so bad?” asked Grandma Baxter. “It’s not like there’s a ring on that finger, missy.”
“Grandma! You already have grandkids, and you’re gunning for great-grandkids?” asked Meredith.
“Of course I am,” said Grandma Baxter. “This house just isn’t the same without little ones running around all over it and spilling lemonade on my cross-stitched pillows...and it’d be a waste of those breeding hips of yours if you didn’t have at least a few babies.”
“And you think Brandon Joyce is the future father of those kids?” asked Meredith.
“He’s a nice enough boy...when he isn’t raising my rent,” said Grandma Baxter. “And if he’s not your type, there’s always Scott and Nathan.”
“You aren’t going to let this go, are you, Grandma?” asked Meredith with a sigh.
“I have half a mind to send you back up to the Joyce place with a basket of goodies tonight,” said Grandma Baxter with a twinkle in her eye. Even in her old age she was mischievous.
“Fine, Grandma,” said Meredith. “I’m doing this for you, not the Joyce boys, and I’ll be back right when the housekeeper agreement is up, and no later.”
“Sure you will,” said Grandma Baxter. “You go pack yourself a suitcase, and I’ll pack you up a basket of goodies.”
Meredith headed to her Grandma Baxter’s guest room. Her Grandma Baxter’s house had a few guest rooms, but Meredith’s favorite was the one with forest trim that featured fairy tales in the pictures. Even though Meredith wasn’t a kid anymore, her grandma always set her up in the fairytale guest room, and Meredith had never asked to be moved.
Meredith packed up the stuff she’d brought for her visit, slipped on her red hoodie, and headed back out to her grandma’s kitchen, where Grandma Baxter had prepared a wicker basket filled with Grandma’s baked goods wrapped around a red and white check cloth.
“Grandma, you were serious?” asked Meredith with a groan.
“The way to any man’s heart is through his stomach,” said Grandma with a laugh. “And bear shifters love them something sweet.”
Meredith took the basket from her grandma. It was heavy and the smell of the buns, biscuits, and other goodies inside was absolutely heavenly. “See you in a few weeks, grandma,” said Meredith, giving her grandma a hug and a kiss. “You have my number if you need anything.”
“Have a great time, honey,” said Grandma Baxter. “No, the best time. And I better not see you around here until you’re done helping out those boys! Now go!” Grandma Baxter practically had to push Meredith out the door.
Meredith loaded the basket into her green sedan and headed up the hill to the Joyce house, which looked far more sinister lit only by moonlight, surrounded by fog, practically inside the woods that the backyard of the Joyce house opened up into.
She parked her car on the street, leaving her suitcase in the car and bringing the basket of goodies up, and headed up the porch and rang the doorbell, remembering how knocking had gotten her into trouble before, dreading seeing Brandon again, coming back here with her tail between her legs.
Chapter Two
“Hey,” said a voice, and Meredith looked up: a man in a pair of pajama bottoms and a loose v-neck shirt was in front of her. Like Brandon, he had shaggy brown hair, but his face was clean shaven, and he wasn’t rubbing sleep out of his eyes. He looked over Meredith: with a red hoodie and a basket full of treats, she looked just like Little Red Riding Hood, but Meredith was all woman, not a little girl, although she was petite and small compared to him, but with ample curves the bear in him wanted to take upstairs to his room. “You must be Meredith.”
“Meredith Baxter, Brandon hired me as a housekeeper for the next few weeks,” said Meredith, looking over the man and resisting the urge to look at his muscles. “My grandmother is one of your tenants.”
“You’re Mrs. Baxter’s granddaughter?” said the tall man in the doorway. “Come on in. Your grandmother’s one of my favorite tenants.”
“And she had nothing but good things to say about you...presuming you’re Scott or Nathan,” said Meredith.
“Of course: where were my manners? I’m Scott, Scott Sanders, and I work with Brandon and Nathan,” said the man, shaking Meredith’s hand. “As you can probably guess, I’m also a bear shifter...and the bear in me smells honey.”
“Honey?” asked Meredith with a gulp, wondering if Scott was referring to her body the way that Brandon had.
“You’ve got something sweet in that basket of yours,” said Scott, sniffing hard and concentrating. “And that basket looks anything but bear-proof.”
“Oh, this,” said Meredith, relieved. “This is from my grandmother, she did a full day of baking today.” She passed the basket to Scott.
“You know, I love your grandmother’s baking,” said Scott. “Her pies always win first place at the Fourth of July pie contest.”
“It’s because of her secret ingredient,” said Meredith. “I don’t know what it is, but it makes everything she makes special.”
“Oh, I know what it is,” said Scott with a smirk. “I can smell it.”
“You can...smell it?” asked Meredith.
“Bears have great senses of smell,” said Scott. “Even when I’m stuck like this. And the one thing bears love to smell more than anything? Honey, and your grandmother bakes with a ton of honey, local marionberry honey.”
“I haven’t had marionberries in so long,” said Meredith. “But I do love Grandma’s marionberry pie.”
“Your grandmother does know how to make one hell of a pie,” said Scott. “You mind if I dig in?”
“Not at all,” said Meredith. She followed Scott to the kitchen and put the basket of treats out onto the breakfast nook. The kitchen was just as much of a mess as the rest of the house and there was a stench from the dirty dishes. “You guys live like animals.”
“Yeah...but we’re bears, so it only happens in the winter,” said Scott. “Sorry about all the mess. You want some help?”
“I’ve got it,” said Meredith. “You dig into the pastries.” She looked at the kitchen and formed her battle plan: she wanted to get rid of the stench first, so she found a box of baking soda and opened it, pouring some into a bowl to leave in the kitchen. The fridge was another problem entirely: much of the food had gone bad, growing mold or turning other ways, and so she made a mental note that she’d need to throw away the food, unless the furry boys wanted to eat furry food. In the meantime, she put any and all dirty dishes into the dishwasher.
Luckily there were lots of cleaning supplies underneath the kitchen sink, so once the dishwasher was loaded and full, she ran the first load of dishes, and then, moved the rest of the dishes to the counter space by the dishwasher, before cleaning off the counters, and then, she took out a trash bag and threw th
e gross food away and any trash in the kitchen. There were lots of take out containers and pizza boxes that she stacked, as well as a few bags of trash that needed to be taken out.
“Let me help you with that,” said Scott, biting into one of the chocolate chip cookies that Grandma Baxter had baked. Watching Meredith clean was almost magical, because the boys had always been bad at keeping the house nice, and in just five minutes, Meredith had done more for the kitchen than they’d done all winter.
“No, this is my job,” insisted Meredith, wiping down one of the cabinets which had an inexplicable spray of ketchup on it.
“You don’t know where the trash cans are yet,” said Scott. “At least let me take some out when I show you.”
“Fine,” said Meredith, picking up two trash bags, but Scott, after finishing his cookie, lifted up all the trash bags that were left, as well as the pizza boxes, using only one arm, and then he took Meredith’s bags from her.
“Come on,” he said, letting Meredith out the back kitchen door. “Take my arm.”
“Why?” asked Meredith.
“Because the path is rocky,” said Scott, turning on the outdoor lights. “And I don’t want you to slip on any ice. We haven’t salted the path yet because we weren’t expecting visitors. We’ll get on that tomorrow.”
“Aren’t you supposed to be hibernating?” asked Meredith, taking Scott’s firm arm with her hand, gingerly at first, but when she almost slipped, she held on tighter, feeling how firm and large the sturdy bear shifter’s biceps were without trying. They walked out onto the porch and then down the steps to a path that led to the garage, where the trashcans were hidden underneath an awning to keep them from getting snowed on.
“We’re almost done hibernating,” said Scott. “And we’ve started getting up ever so often for a day or so every few weeks.”
“So I take it Brandon went back to bed, and you’re up now?” asked Meredith.
“He was actually upstairs showering, I think he was expecting you and wanted to get cleaned up for company, but he fell asleep and I had to drag him back into his bed,” said Scott, hoisting the bags into the trash cans and the pizza boxes into the recycling bin. “These bins get picked up every Tuesday morning, by the way.”
“Noted,” said Meredith. She took Scott’s arm again for the walk back without being asked: ostensibly, it was so that she wouldn’t slip on the ice, but Scott’s warm arms made her feel safe and protected. “Scott...can I ask you a weird question? It might be kind of personal.”
“Shoot,” said Scott with a megawatt smile that made her blush like a schoolgirl. She’d never received much attention from men, but Scott had kept his focus on her all night, and when his eyes wandered, she didn’t say anything because she’d be a hypocrite to mention it, given how she’d admired his strong, broad shoulders and arms as thick as tree trunks all night long.
“Were you the man that raised my grandma’s rent?” asked Meredith.
Scott frowned. “No, wasn’t me. To the best of my knowledge, only Brandon handles the leases.”
“But Brandon said he didn’t raise the lease,” said Meredith. “Would he lie about something like that?”
“I grew up with Brandon: we wouldn’t be friends if he was dishonest,” said Scott. “He can be more bumble bee than bear sometimes, though.”
“What do you mean?” asked Meredith, confused.
“Think about it: bumble bees work all day, bump into things left and right, they’re total klutzes, and they’re hard to understand, they just go buzz, buzz, buzz,” joked Scott. “Although, now, I get to ask you a question.”
“Shoot,” said Meredith.
“By any chance...do you know how to cut hair?” asked Scott, opening the kitchen door. “All this shaggy junk in my eyes is getting annoying.”
“Nope,” answered Meredith. “But I can try.”
“That’s good enough for me,” said Scott. “Hair grows back. Plus, I don’t know where the guys keep the clippers.” Scott sorted through the drawers until he found a pair of scissors. He washed them off in the sink and passed them to Meredith.
“You sure you want me to do this?” asked Meredith.
“Whatever haircut you give me will be better than a haircut I give you myself,” said Scott. “I don’t trust myself to not nip of the tips of my ears.” Scott brought over one of the dining room chairs and plopped himself in before stripping off his shirt.
“Whoa, I didn’t agree to trim your chest hair,” said Meredith.
“It’s to keep the hair off my shirt,” said Scott. “Unless you’ve got a better idea?”
Meredith sighed. “You guys have a vacuum cleaner, right?”
“Yeah, in the hallway closet,” said Scott.
“Then let’s do this,” said Meredith, taking the scissors and gingerly lifting a strand of Scott’s hair up. His hair was freshly washed but dry. She trimmed it, just a few millimeters, and millimeters soon turned to centimeters as Meredith trimmed Scott’s hair, getting his hair all over her shirt. Scott stood still as Meredith trimmed around his head, but kept asking her questions about her life.
“So, I take it you don’t live in Port Jameson?” asked Scott.
“That’s right,” said Meredith. “It’s a small town: we would’ve seen each other around. I live in Los Angeles: my grandmother is my mother’s mom and we’d visit her every summer. My parents and I didn’t make it up this year so I came up by myself to visit her this winter. I’ve been looking forward to it all year.”
“And here you are, spending your vacation with three shifters instead,” said Scott, his big brown eyes turning bright and amber, flickering with rage at the perceived injustice. “I’m sorry: if I’d known, I would’ve told Brandon we should just hire a service.”
“It’s really fine,” said Meredith. “I’m doing it so my grandmother’s rent won’t get raised next year.”
“I’ll talk to Brandon about it,” promised Scott. “That whole thing stinks. If you want to leave, I understand.”
“I gave my word,” said Meredith. “And my grandma was really pushy...she was the reason I came back here in the first place. I guess she wanted me to make some friends in town.”
“Friends, or something more?” asked Scott.
“You wouldn’t get it,” said Meredith with a sigh. “It’s a girl thing.”
“What, the pressure to get married?” asked Scott, surprising Meredith who stopped clipping at his hair. Scott turned: Meredith was shocked. “I’m not a mind reader, Meredith: I’m a bear shifter, and shifters are supposed to get married early and young. I’m twenty-five and unmarried, and that’s an oddity for bear shifters. We mate for life, and we’re expected to get married sooner rather than later so that we can pop out as many young as possible. Trust me: I get it. You’ve got a pushy grandma...try having a pushy clan of bear shifters full of high school sweethearts who found their fated mates at eighteen.”
“Fated mates?” asked Meredith. “You believe in fate?”
“It’s not faith, it’s fact, and it’s real,” said Scott, his brown eyes turning amber once more because he wasn’t holding back his bear. “Shifters mate for life: that mate they have? That’s their fated mate. Of course, a shifter can sleep around for a while, but once they find their fated mate, they won’t want to anymore: the person they feel that connection with is the only person they’ll ever want to be with again.”
“And I take it you haven’t found yours,” said Meredith softly.
“That’s right,” said Scott. “Or my bed would be a heck of a lot warmer. These winters are long and cold, but they seem longer and colder without someone to share hibernation with. I’d do anything to find my fated mate.”
Meredith brushed the hair off of Scott’s shoulders. “I think I’m done,” she said, and as Scott got up to brush more of his brown hair off his body, Meredith saw his strong, firm pecs for the first time, but what stood out the most was a patch of dark red fur on his chest, right over his heart.
“What is that?” asked Meredith. “Is that a bear shifter thing?” She looked over the haircut she’d given Scott: she hadn’t had mirrors or combs but she’d done her best. The haircut was choppy and a bit asymmetrical and looked like it belonged in a fashion magazine rather than on a big bear shifter.
“Kind of,” asked Scott. “I’m surprised you noticed it: that’s...my mate mark.”
“What’s it mean?” asked Meredith.
“Isn’t that the million dollar question?” teased Scott. “It’s supposed to give me a clue as to who I belong with, who my fated mate is.”
“Brandon has the same one,” said Meredith.
“And so does Nathan,” said Scott. “Our marks aren’t considered normal: most shifters have something like a tattoo, although the mark is made of pigmented skin, not ink. The red fur is puzzling, to put it lightly.”
“Maybe your fated mate owns a hair parlor,” joked Meredith. “Or is extra hairy.”
Scott laughed. “I like the way you think, Meredith You’re funny. Did Brandon give you a tour of the house?”
“Nope,” said Meredith. “Lead the way.”
“Well, you’ve seen the living room, the backyard, the garage, the kitchen, and the main hall,” said Scott. “We’ve got a laundry right over here.” He opened a closet and showed the two pairs of washers and dryers.
“Two washers and two dryers?” asked Meredith.
“Three guys who run a realty business and take a hands on approach will make a ton of mess on their own,” said Scott. “Add bear shifting to the mix, and, well, things get gross.” Scott closed the laundry door and walked her down further.
He opened the door and revealed a large pantry filled with canned foods. “We have a lot of canned goods and, as you saw in the kitchen, take out, during the winter,” said Scott. “But we’ve left you one of our credit cards in the kitchen, as well as a spare set of keys for you, so you can come and go as you please: if you could make us meals while you’re here, that’d be awesome, and you can obviously get whatever you want. Right now, all we’ve got in the freezer is some of our leftover frozen salmon.”
